The Presidium's Chef
by MrMobil
Summary: Though Zanaria Es'Tori is one of the most well respected chefs on the Presidium, she still has many quirks to her life. Long hours in the kitchen, a newborn daughter and bondmate who she worries she doesn't see enough, and a line cook who is proving to be very flaky are all just a day in her life. Though she loves her life, sometimes she wishes it was just a bit easier.


**Hey there! So, this is the second story Ive started here on , and I thought I would use an old OC Ive had in my head for a while but have never done anything substantial with. I hope everyone enjoys, and please leave feedback. Im always looking to improve my writing.**

"When you go to a restaurant, the less you know about what happens in the kitchen, the more you enjoy your meal." Jeffrey Wright

The kitchen of the Presidium Skald Fish was seemingly combusting under its own weight. The waiters were coming in and out from the front of house seemingly every second, and the papers that they wrote orders on were piling up on line of twine that was used to keep them all in one place and organised. A salarian and a human stood behind a long metal table, chopping vegetables and preparing a series of diced meats into a dish Tuchanken dish called Grotalen. A quarian and a turian stood in their own corner, preparing dextro foods. Dishes were stacking up on one side of the dishwasher machine, and the dishwasher was throwing plates, pots, cups and bowls haphazardly into the racks and putting them through the machine. A krogan was leaned over the trashcan with a plastic tub filled with bits of all the different meals being prepared. He piled it into his mouth with a spoon, trying to eat as quickly as he could. Behind him, at the grill, was an asari named Zanaria, flipping slabs of meat, while watching a pot of sauce out the corner of her eye. A sound system pumped a collection that the cooks had collected of random songs they all liked. It was playing a human rapper, called Real Rotten, a favourite among the back of house staff for his hectic lyrics that they felt reflected their hectic business perfectly. The dinner rush was in full swing, and it was readily apparent to all in the kitchen.

Zanaria reached up and took a pair of tongs and a plate from above her. She picked up one of the three Varren Steaks she was preparing, before leaning over the pot of sauce and taking out a spoonful. She drizzled it over the steak, before putting the plate on the metal counter, by the krogan.

"Grall," she said, "Dress this up for me. And finish your food soon, Im in the weeds on the grill here."

"Sure thing chef," said Grall. He stood, and plunked his plastic tub of food down on the counter. He placed a dolop of mashed potatoes down next to the steak, before adding in different herbs from the cups and bowls they were stored in. When he finished, he put the plate in front of the prep counter, next to a line of other dishes that had been finished. A waiter quickly stepped forward from behind the doors separating front of house from the kitchen, and seeing the steak picked it up, along with a salad and a soup dish. Grall spun around, and picked up his food again before bending over the trash again and shoveling it in his mouth again.

Another waiter stepped through the door, holding a meat dish that hadn't been touched. "Customer said this wasn't what they ordered. Said they wanted it well done."

"Fucking hell!" said Zanaria. "This is fucking ridiculous."

The turian piped up from across the kitchen, and went to take the plate. "I got this Zanaria," he said. He took it over to his station, and put it on a separate grill that he and the qurian used to cook the dextro food. He held the food down on the grill with a spatula, while stirring a turian soup with his other hand.

"Thanks Arturus," said Zanaria. She took another of the Varren Steaks off of the grill, and put it on a plate. She put it down in front of Grall with an "Order up bitch!" Grall stood, and repeated his actions from earlier. He placed mashed potatoes on the plate, and dressed it up with herbs before handing it off to a waiter. His food was about halfway done.

A waiter came through the doors, and placed an order on the twine, hanging it with a clothespin. "We got an order for a Paleven Skopin Filet, and a Grilled Sunfish."

Zanaria put her tongs on the rack above her head, and said "Soliu, cover my station."

"You bet," he said, and quickly turned to work the grill, wiping his hands on a towel that hung from the tie of his apron. The human prep cook, who was named Tomas placed the Grotalen with the other finished dishes, and moved to help the dishwasher before they became overwhelmed with the amount of dirty dishes coming in.

Zanaria quickly walked to the walk in fridge, the scuffed clogs she wore on her feet shining in the bright overhead lighting. Arturus, the turian cook followed closely behind her. They both stood in the fridge, looking for the Skopin and the Sunfish respectively.

"Hows the baby doing?" Asked Arturus.

"Shes doing good," said Zanaria, pulling out a box of sunfish. "Loud, but I love her to death anyways."

"Oh spirits," said Arturus, "you're going soft."

"Man fuck that Arturus, you say im going soft again and Im going to cut you."

They both laughed, and they found what they were looking for and left the fridge. Zanaria placed the sunfish on a cutting board by the grill, and began to gut it. She cut it down its stomach, and pulled out its spine, taking with it most of the fish's guts. She cut of its head, before taking a pot from above her head and turning on a burner. Zanaria walked over to the sink by the dishwashing machine, and filled the pot with water, before returning to her station and putting it on the burner. She threw in the sunfish, before taking off the last Varren Steak and drizzling it with the sauce she was watching.

She turned and handed it to Grall, who put down his food and repeated the process of garnishing. When he finished, he ate the last few bites of his food before taking the tub over to the dish station. "New record Grall," said Paebip, the salarian dishwasher. "Last time it took you 3:00 minutes to eat dinner. You got 2:30 at most this time."

Grall raised his fists in the air triumphantly, "Yes, I knew I was the king of this kitchen from day one," he bellowed.

Zanaria reached to grab a wire brush used to clean the grill, knocking over a can filled with grease in the process. It spilled into the grill, and a big flame shot up into the air. The whole kitchen jumped in surprise, and Zanaria yelled "Fucking shit!"

Tomas acted fast and turned from where he was helping Paebip and threw a bowl filled with water on the fire before it could set anything else alight. They all stared at the grill for a minute, before a waiter came in. "Order of Filet Mignon, medium rare." The kitchen jumped back into gear as quickly as it had fallen out of it.

"Grall," said Zanaria, "get the grill back up and running, Im gonna get the filet."

Zanaria closed the door softly, and took off her chef's coat. She hung it on the coat rack by the door, before venturing deeper into the house. A stack of papers was on the kitchen table, with big fat red A's B's on them C's on them, as well as many notes and observations about the subjects of the papers. Zanaria went into the kitchen, and opened the fridge. She pulled out a square of cheese, before reaching up to a cabinet above the fridge and taking out a box of crackers. She opened a drawer, and took a knife before placing her snack on the counter. She opened another cabinet, and pulled out a wine bottle and glass, before taking everything into her living room.

Zanaria plopped down on the couch, and began to cut the cheese. She made it about halfway through the cheese square before she put down the knife and took a cracker out of the box. She put a piece of cheese on it, and put them both ito her mouth. Zanaria looked out over the darkened living room as she chewed. She thought about nothing in particular, just enjoyed the silence.

It didn't last long however. As soon as Zanaria went to eat another cracker, she heard the sounds of a baby crying. Zanaria waited for a minute, hoping the baby would put herself to sleep. When she didn't, Zanaria stood and walked down the hall. She opened the last door on the left, and entered a small nursery. In the corner was a small crib, and she walked over, resting her hands on the edge, and peered down. She saw her daughter, who stared back up at her with big blue eyes. Zanaria smiled, and her daughter began to cry again.

Zanaria reached down and picked up her daughter. "Its alright," she said, "Daddy's got you. There's no need to cry Kaishira."

Kaishira ignored her, and instead continued her crying. Zanaria Lifted her daughter and smelled for a dirty diaper, but didn't smell anything. "You just woke up huh?" she said, and Kaishira looked at her again. Zanaria nodded, and walked out of the door with her daughter tucked protectively under her arm, clutched as closely to her chest.

Zanaria went back into her kitchen, and opened the fridge again. She pulled out a bottle of milk, and Kaishira eyed it with anticipation. Zanaria smiled as she saw this. She opened a microwave, which rested on top of the refrigerator. She placed the bottle inside, before closing the door and punching in 1:00 into the timer. She pressed start, and waited.

The microwave oit up, and she could see the bottle spinning inside. Kaishira watched with curiosity, and Zanaria lifted her daughter up to get a better look. "You like that huh," she said. Kaishira watched with the curiosity that only children have until the microwave beeped, and she seemed to come out of a sort of trance. She looked all around the kitchen, until her eyes rested again on her father. Zanaria opened the microwave, and pulled the bottle out. Kaishira reached her hands out, and tried to grab the bottle. Her face looked intense, and concentrated.

Zanaria handed her daughter the bottle, and used her free hand to help Kaishira keep it steady. She walked back into the livingroom, and sat on the couch again, watching her daughter drink her milk. "You know," she said, "Ive always hated kids." Kaishira looked at her, and Zanaria couldnt help but smile again. "Kids are loud, and they don't understand social cues, and they need so much attention. I hate em. And I know Im going to hate all of the friends you're going to make when you get older." Zanaria sat back, and kissed her her daughter lightly on the forehead. "But for you, Im willing to put up with how loud you are. You can be as loud and obnoxious as you want. You can be a little gremlin, but you'll be my little gremlin."

Zanaria crawled as lightly as she could into her bed, trying not to wake up her wife Hazera. She moved slowly, and laid herself down as lightly as she could. Zanaria winced when one of the springs in the bed popped, and he whole thing shuddered slightly. She looked over at her wife, and sighed with relief when she did not react. Zanaria rolled over onto her side, and looked at the back of Hazeras head. She felt a little bad. Her job was hectic, and long hours, and Zanaria worried that she didn't get to see her family enough. When she went to roll back over and go to sleep, she felt the bed move some as Hazera shifted.

"Hey," said Hazera.

Zanaria sighed. "Hi. I didnt wake you up did I?"

"No," said Hazera, rolling over to look at Zanaria. "Ive been sort of half asleep for a while."

Zanaria nodded, and Hazera moved over closer to her wife, resting her head on Zanarias chest. "How was your day?" asked Zanaria.

"It was good," said Hazera. "I had so review a lot of papers, which is sort of boring, but we had some great discussion in class today."

"Im glad to hear that."

"Yeah. The dean came in, and observed one of my lectures. Apparently one of my students complained and said I was incredibly inappropriate an not understanding of others culture."

"What?" Said Zanaria.

"Yeah, they said that my teaching style was very rigid, and didnt accommodate the cultures of others. So the Dean came to observe and see if the accusation was true. At the end of the lecture, she pulled me aside and said that I was an amazing professor, and that she didnt know what this students problem was."

"Thats great," said Zanaria excitedly. She looked down at Hazera, who looked up at her and smiled.

"Yeah, thats what I thought. It was an amazing compliment, especially coming from Dean Walton. Anyway, how was your day? No crazy shenanigans?"

"Well," said Zanaria, "I set the grill on fire."

Hazera looked at her worriedly. "No one was hurt, were they?"

"No, no one was hurt. Tomas acted super fast and threw a bowl of water on the fire before any serious damage could be done."

"Thank the Goddess. Im glad everyone is alright."

"Me to. Other than that, it was a pretty normal Sunday night. Though it was busyer than normal. But, we made it through, and no one cut their fingers off."

"You mean like you did?" asked Hazera.

"Hey, that was a pretty intense time of my life, when I cut my finger off." Zanarai brought her left hand up, and put it in Hazera's face. "See," she said, "I shaved the top of it off."

When Zanaria had first started her restaurant, she had promptly cut off the tip of her middle finger, making it about the size of her ring finger. She loved to tell people about it at any chance that presented itself, and it had become a sort of joke between her and Hazera. The two talked for a few minutes, but soon they both began to feel tired. They tried to continue the conversation, but had no real luck. It petered off little by little, and eventually Zanaria noticed that her wife had fallen asleep. She yawned, and closed her own eyes to sleep as well.


End file.
